21/10/99

Cold reception

    You've heard, perhaps, that the Israel Museum is getting a new reception center. We've read in this newspaper all about the design, the debate over the design, the new design, the new debate, this architect, that critic, and on and on. 
    By the way, it's being funded by a donation of $42 million. 
    Forty-two million dollars!!
    A hundred and seventy million shekels.
    It took my breath away. 
    I'm not exactly a bleeding-heart espousing a welfare state, and I'm not suggesting the museum's needs are unworthy. Let me stress, too, that I'm not unappreciative of this phenomenal gift to Israel. But think about it: 42 million!
    The issue is less of priority and more of proportion. If it were three mill, or five, there would be nothing to say but thank you. If we didn't have a museum, fine. If this weren't a country with so many desperate needs in its most fundamental sectors  -- educational, medical, industrial -- I'd say what the heck.
    It's only a reception center, for goodness sake! Sorry -- a reception center and a parking lot.
    Did I mention that it's costing $42 million? Actually, it's not: the government has to kick in an additional $8 million of public funds. That's more than a buck for every Israeli; I wonder how the miserable jobless families of bankrupt Kiryat Malachi feel about that. 
    All that money is going into nothing more than an upgrade for an institution of limited populist value.  It is so much money, it could make a monumental difference, in one way or another, to the entire nation. 
    How much is it? It's fully 1 percent of the country's annual spending budget.
    It seems highly frivolous. Certainly, it is the donors' prerogative to choose where their gift goes.
    But!
    Imagine if they had decided to disburse this great fortune to revolutionize the wretched education system. Virtually every family would benefit, and we'd have ourselves a nation bursting with braininess. Well-paid teachers! Motivated students! Imagine, classrooms of 20 instead of 40, and a computer at every desk; Israeli kids studying until 4 p.m. with free school books in comfortable, air-conditioned classrooms. University education for the poor. 
    Imagine the relief on the hopelessly burdened health-care system. Forty-two million dollars happens to be the same amount the Treasury is spending to expand the basket of health services for new drugs, technologies and treatments -- but it needs a  total of NIS 2 billion, which won't happen. 
    Imagine new factories infusing new life in depressed towns infested with unemployment. The greatest form of charity is helping someone earn a living. That much greater would be creating jobs for thousands. 
     On the other hand, imagine, a new museum entrance!

I TOOK my snit to Martin Weyl, challenging him for a justification. He had ready answers.
    Weyl funneled this donation to the museum, as head of the Beracha Foundation, which represents the Gruss Family's philanthropic efforts. Weyl is also a former director of the museum.
    It so happens that Joseph Gruss has contributed fantastic amounts to all sectors, for the benefit of all Israelis.
    "Our foundation has given much more than $42 million in the past, most of it anonymously: for education, the handicapped, the blind, the retarded; the largest community center in the country, the school of technology -- you hardly see his name on it, it was all done very modestly. Another Gruss fund  enables every soldier that comes out of the army to study.
    "We've built about 100 creches in this country. We've given a lot for Russian immigrants to study, to get established; big amounts to universities, big amounts to all kinds of social institutions, for health, libraries, research, the Academy of Sciences. Wherever there's a real need, this family has been there.
    "And now, [the family] said they want to do something nice to honor the man who left all that money. Now they want to do something for the spirit."
    Weyl bristles at the criticism he too often hears. "I would like this country to be able to say, 'Thank you, Joseph Gruss,' but instead, I feel it's like, no good deed goes unpunished. Those people are being attacked left and right. Such uncivilized behavior! Even if you don't want it, say it in a nice way, don't say 'stick it.'
    "You heard what happened in the Technion a few weeks ago? A donor, Bill Davidson, wanted to give them $30 million, but there was infighting, so he said thank you very much, and he left.
    "We take it for granted, we live off their money, we're not gracious, we don't have the spirit to acknowledge them correctly. We're always questioning what they do, and why they do it, and should they do it. It hurts me.
    "I had to train the staff in the museum to be nice to donors -- I know, it sounds silly!"
    With my reasoning, he said, "There would not be a museum today. It was built at a time (1965) when everyone said, 'Who needs a museum?' "
    The master plan has been rethought over the past two decades. It was originally designed as an acropolis, where people enter from all sides, but security concerns have changed that. The complex is bedeviled by a wide range of infrastructural shortcomings, galling to what Weyl says is "one of the 20 biggest museums in the world, and the most important museum in the world to the Jewish people."
    The government's $8 million share is misleading: it's a tax exemption. "The donors said, if we're giving all this money, we shouldn't also have to pay the VAT."
    The wrong people are being criticized, says Weyl.
    "It's a pity there aren't more people willing to give. There are now so many rich Israelis. Why do we have to depend on people from abroad?
    "I remember Shulamit Aloni and Yossi Beilin saying to the Americans, we don't need your money. But it's not true. The museum would die, the hospitals would die if not for those people.
    "Israelis don't know how to say thank you, but despite this, these people continue to give, because they think it's important. And they do it from their heart.
    Weyl shakes his head in disillusioned frustration. "I didn't realize it would be so difficult to give so much."